Whilst walking down the short corridor, Kol realised that when she'd said cargo hold, she kind of meant broom cupboard. Opening the door of said cupboard, he was pleasantly surprised to see it was a large one. He peered into the room curiously and his eyes searched for the other hitch hiker. A figure lay slumped against a box, toying with a battered looking book in his long-fingered hands.

"Hello, Ford Prefect," Kol said, allowing a small flicker of a smile. The man's head jerked up in surprise, electric blue eyes catching Kol's gaze. Kol moved forward into the room, and Ford raised himself into an alert crouch, clutching his satchel close to his body with one hand whilst keeping his balance with the other. Slowly, a manic grin that made Kol feel like he was about to get eaten or severally bodily harmed spread across Ford's face.

"Hello...?" Ford seemed ready to greet Kol by name, but lacked the ability to do so.

"Kol," he said, walking closer to Ford and sitting down next to what he had decided would be his box. Ford eyed Kol warily, wondering what to make of his new companion. Eventually he lowered himself back down to his slumped position, and took the book out of its cover. He slung the cover aside and it ended up close enough to Kol for him to read it. It said 'Don't Panic' in large, friendly letters. It also looked like it had traversed the entire galaxy, been sat on, trodden on, kicked, eaten, digested, laser blasted and all manner of other nasty things. Kol reached out and picked it up, and smiled. It was a copy of The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It looked a lot more used (although rather less loved) than his own copy. Kol passed it back to Ford, who snatched it protectively and shoved it in his satchel under a sad looking floral print towel.

"Belgium," muttered Ford, still glaring down at his book. Kol felt awkward, all of a sudden. There had been a feeling in the room when Kol had entered it, and now he had decided the feeling was emanating from the small, scrawny man sitting opposite him. It wasn't a nice feeling. It made Kol feel like he should help Ford look for something very important but hadn't been given an adequate description of exactly what it was and why it was important. Kol coughed and Ford's eyes flicked up to stare unblinkingly at him, daring him to cough again. Kol wasn't an idiot, and he didn't take the challenge.

"Where are you from?" Kol asked casually.

"Betelgeuse," Ford muttered, scowling. He didn't like Kol, not one bit. He seemed to know what he was doing, and Ford didn't like that. He needed to explain things to someone. He needed his confused monkey man. But he knew that when he found his confused monkey man, Arthur would ask him how the hell they survived the Earth being exploded. And to be perfectly honest, Ford didn't have a clue, which worried him greatly. He hadn't turned The Guide on since he'd realised that the Vorgons had completely trashed it with utter nonsense. Even though deep down, Ford knew that The Guide had originally been full of nonsense, but that wasn't the point. It hadn't been Vorgon nonsense. He looked up when he heard Kol humming to himself and saw that Kol was browsing through his own, slightly better cared for version of The Guide.

"What's the point?" Ford asked. Kol looked up from reading an article on breaking the ice with morose strangers.

"Of what?"

"What?"

"You asked me what the point was," Kol said patiently, trying to not get frustrated with the little man from Betelgeuse.

"I didn't," Ford snapped. Kol sighed and looked back at his book. This was going to be a long journey.

After what felt like a decade of silence, Ford said something.

"I used to be a hoopy frood once. I knew where my towel was, y'know. I also knew where my monkey man was. And I had more than three Altairian dollars to live off a day. But then the Vorgons screwed it all up! You know what they did?" Ford sounded angry, like he was venting all his life's woes on Kol, "They assigned me as a restaurant columnist!" the Betelgeusian spluttered, and then spat on the ground.

"Belgium," he concluded, then lapsed into silence once more. Kol tried to get this extraordinarily strange man to speak again, but he refused. Kol was so bored he'd already got to an article on sentient cans of deodorant.

"Why are you reading that trash?!" Ford asked suddenly, still sounding seriously angry.

"...I'm bored," Kol shrugged, feeling a little put out by Ford's unpredictably explosive behaviour. Several strange expressions crossed the man's face, and he snatched up his own book, and typed furiously on its small keyboard. He blinked.

"Holy Belgium," Ford breathed, before his manic grin appeared once more, "You see this!?" he exclaimed, throwing himself forwards so he was crouched in front of Kol, waving his book in his face.

"Look! Look what it says!" he cackled, giddy with glee. Kol frowned, and peered at the book waving around in front of him. Earth: Mostly harmless.

"Um...Sure? What the hell is this?" Kol sighed, peering at the article. He didn't quite seem to be getting the significance, and hoped that squinting at it would unveil some kind of subliminal message.

"Well, a long time ago I got sent to this planet called Earth. The only word this article said about it was Harmless. I got stuck there for fifteen years, and all I got for that work was one extra word. But I met this guy there who was kinda froody in a not froody kind of way, if y'know what I mean? But then the planet got blown up by the Vorgons but I saved myself and the monkey man – "

The author would like to point out that although she could have written an entire run through of all five books, she spared you the pain. At this point in the narrative, Ford flung himself into a short rendition of everything that happened to him between the Vorgons blowing up the Earth first time round, and now. Although the author would love to tell you how fantastic Ford's memory was, she can't, and he left out some interesting details. But let's continue.

When Ford had finished, he felt quite breathless, but pleased with himself none-the-less.

"But ... What I fail to understand is why you are so excited about the article in The Guide?" Kol questioned cautiously, feeling inadequate to ask questions about the story he'd just heard. Ford hadn't really ended it with an 'okay, feel free to ask questions now' air about his voice.

"Because it means The Guide is back to normal!" Ford spluttered, looking quite flustered. Kol was still slightly confused.

"When wasn't it normal?"

"When the Vorgons took over! ... Oh..." Ford looked back down at the guide thoughtfully. He hadn't read from it since he'd conveniently appeared suddenly on Udruxia XI. It dawned on him that perhaps the destruction of every Earth in the existence of everything had also destroyed the second version of The Guide. Maybe it had destroyed all trace of itself, including the havoc it had wreaked on the original Guide. The manic grin made another appearance. Kol grumbled and fidgeted.

"I really wish you'd stop looking like I'm your next meal," he groaned. Ford laughed and shuffled back to his original spot, slumped against the box opposite Kol.

"So, tell me about your-self," Ford said, smiling as un-insanely as he could manage.

Umm...I don't know? Ha-ha! This seems quite ... useless. It's more of an experiment with Ford. I wanted to get the feel of him in my own style, y'know? I don't think I've quite got it, but I'll try! 8D

Thanks for reading. Reviews are the food of my muse T-T